withering

tonight, in your arms,

I feel heavy pressed. 

your warmth more weighty

than loving. 

it's ungiving. 

the way I lift your hand,

dead weighted,

and have to drop it over my shoulder

to get you to hold me. 

it's pathetic. 

i keep doing it, still. 

keep trying,

hoping, wanting,

needing the spark to come alive. 

it's dimming. 

in the darkness i sit 

pressed against your body

that doesn't want any part of this

and I reminisce. 

it's remembering. 

bringing me back to California sunsets

and midnights in your jacuzzi

where we started having these lengthy conversations

about life, love, what was wrong with the world-

everything. 

it breathed. 

some sort of fire grew there, kindling

inside the stories you shared- 

making sure I understood that you hadn't told some of them to anyone before,

not even shawne. 

why? you didn't know, I was easy to talk to 

and I listened good.  

it grew. 

nothing happened those first couple of times,

nothing except I think I might have 

fallen in to your heart 

as you were swimming in mine. 

I yearned to spend time under the bubbles,

talking and laughing and just chilling with you. 

it's unexplainable. 

I couldn't tell you why

but there I was 

falling in love with you. 

I remember the way you felt the first time we touched. 

it shocked. 

your skin sent electricity through every pore of my skin

shivering my entire body. 

I couldn't help but to surrender. 

maybe because it was so obvious

that you had surrendered too. 

it's beautiful. 

time changes things 

and our relationship flourished. 

until one day it just stopped. 

you were cold where once you weren't. 

it snapped. 

and it never came back 

so I throw your arm over my shoulder,

lay back with my heart in my stomach

and watch tv-

all so I can pretend

that you still love me 

and that this isn't just cold nothing 

that has grown in between us.